The Brave Little Monkey Lizard
by Caelestis Kibeth
Summary: Wes Janson after six rounds of lum ale is not a pretty sight. Just ask that girl's boyfriend. Third drabble challenge fic for Face of Poe!


**The** **Brave Little Monkey Lizard**

**Caelestis Kibeth**

"Sorry we're late—what'd we miss?"

Wedge glanced sidelong as the other pilots made room for Kell Tainer and Tyria Sarkin to slide their way into the wide alcove enclosing their group's table. Even in the dim red-yellow ambiance of Coruscant's Spacer's Lounge tapcafe, there was no mistaking the flush of color painting the couple's cheeks. Or—

"Tyria, you've got a little something," Dia Passik muttered bemusedly. She reached across Face's lap to stuff a rogue ducktail of tunic back into her fellow Wraith's trousers, receiving a mortified gasp and whispered thanks.

The Twi'lek grinned in a decidedly feral manner up at her own date for a spell before fully withdrawing; Tyria went full Imperial scarlet at the knowing laughter from the other pilots around the table.

Kell, hiding his awkwardness only slightly better, cleared his throat and pushed on.

"What did we miss?" he repeated.

"Oh, quite a bit," Corran Horn replied, still chuckling from behind his mug of lomin ale.

"Pretty much everything," Gavin added.

"Well, not _everything,_" Tycho corrected.

"Just six rounds of lum." Myn Donos motioned to the mountain of empty mugs on the table with a flourish.

"—_not_ by us," Hobbie was quick to assure them.

"Oh no, we're still on our first." Wedge held up his half-empty glass of Whyren's.

Tyria, now recovered, gave an owl-eyed stare. "Then who drank all of these?"

Kell's eyes tracked around the table, taking a mental inventory of his drinking companions. "Waaait," he began, suspicion weighing on his voice. "Where's Jans—?"

"AND _THEN _SHALLA TELLS ME, 'NICE REAR, LIEUTENANT!_'_"

All eyes in the gathering were drawn across the room, locking on in tandem to the missing member of their party. Wes Janson, folded over himself in a howl of self-afflicted laughter, leaned heavily against the bar facing a waifish Bothan female, who was listening—or at least pretending to listen—to his overly animated tale.

Unfamiliar as he was with the subtleties of Bothan body language, Wedge couldn't honestly tell whether the gentle ripples in the humanoid's sand-colored fur were an indicator of irritation or amusement. He did reckon he could make some sound bets on the matter, though.

"But SERIOUSLY!" Wes continued raucously. He was steadily attracting attention from the rest of the room now. "You've got NO idea the kinds of PARTS of my body where I found that nasty stuff! My FEET, my LEGS, my HAIR, my—my_ DELICATE_ _BITS_!"

There was a distinct cringe from each and every pilot at the table.

"—_EWOK FOOD FOR DAYS_!"

Finishing with a grand gesture, Janson sloshed his drink in the general direction of his face, seeming altogether unperturbed that only half of it actually made it to his mouth. His Bothan companion looked disgusted—_Concerned?_ Wedge wondered—nah, definitely disgusted—as she offered him a napkin to wipe up.

"Nothing but a simple misfire!" he proclaimed confidently as he brushed off the offer of help. Wedge imagined that their mystery lady was none too heartbroken at the denial.

"Who's that Janson's talking to?"

The group looked up collectively to see Asyr Sei'lar, returning just then from the refresher. Her large eyes kept curious watch on the scene unfolding across the cantina.

Gavin sighed and ran a hand back through his dark hair, the other moving to wrap around her waist. "Just a mere mortal getting an unexpected taste of the New Republic's finest," he muttered.

Hobbie regarded his Bothan squadmate gravely. "On behalf of all humans everywhere, I want to issue a formal apology."

Asyr let out a bark-like laugh. "I wouldn't be so quick," she returned between sips of some fizzy lavender concoction. "I'd say Lieutenant Janson's friend is rather enjoying his company."

"WHAT!?"

Had it not been for Janson already stumbling into a new, equally inappropriate bout of word vomit, the volume of the collective exclamation would have easily turned half the heads in the establishment.

Face was the first to recover. "You can't mean—"

Corran wiped a bit of his drink from his chin. "—she actually _likes_ him?"

"_J-Janson?_" Tycho stammered in disbelief. "But he's a—"

"An idiot?" Dia offered.

"An embarrassment?" Kell added.

"Total nerfherder," Tyria concurred.

"For Force's sake, he's bouncing around like a Kowakian monkey lizard!" Myn exclaimed, throwing an exasperated gesture towards the scene.

Indeed, there was Wes, wild-eyed now as he acted out some or another grand misadventure, full with starfighter sound effects and drunken approximations of piloting maneuvers. In that moment, Wedge could not have been more relieved to be on furlough and therefore not technically responsible for his pilots' actions. As long as he could pretend to have no relation to their boisterous friend, there should be no—

"Uh, _problem_."

It was Face's voice that thrust him back into reality. And a good thing that it did, as Wedge was certain he would have otherwise missed the shadow that crept over Janson's incognizant form from behind the female Bothan, glaring steadily down at the babbling pilot. His eyes widened to the size of sensor array dishes.

"Is that her—"

"—boyfriend!"

Before the word could squeak past Tyria's lips, a much larger, black-furred Bothan male stepped out to stand firmly beside Wes's new lady friend. The humanoid wasted no time in pulling back his fist that came around swinging straight for the pilot's head. Wedge had to admit that he was impressed to see Wes dodge—albeit shakily—at the very last moment and come up and around, brandishing a thin-looking red instrument at his opponent's face.

"I-Is Janson pointing a _straw_ at him?" Gavin sputtered incredulously.

The urge to smack his face into his palm was nearly too strong now for Wedge to resist, but he did his best, if only so that he could fish out a handful of credits and throw them on the table. "Come on, we're leaving," he succinctly informed the rest of his two squadrons.

No other orders were necessary; at least half of them—with Corran, Hobbie and Tycho leading the pack—were up out of their seats and halfway to the exit already.

As Coruscant's brisk night air hit their faces outside the tapcaf's doors, Dia flipped one of her lekku over her shoulder, gazing uncertainly back towards the entrance to the establishment. Face, who had been holding onto her arm, stopped short at the resistance and sent her a quizzical look.

"Don't worry about Janson," he assured her.

"He's a big little monkey lizard," Wedge added gruffly, and turned back to pull his squadmates away from the threshold. It had been an inspired maneuver; for it was at that exact moment when their previous space was filled by a flailing body, tumbling head over heels into the street before them and landing in a heap at Kell and Tyria's feet. From inside, a furious shout of _And don't come back! _echoed through the air.

The Rogues and Wraiths stared down at their disgraced compatriot in stunned silence for a long moment before Wedge held out a hand reluctantly.

"So, Lieutenant," he began, pulling the unsteady man to his feet. How many cantinas that made that they would not be welcome in again, he didn't want to even begin to calculate. "Have you burned enough bridges for tonight?"

Wes answered with a good shake of his head and an infuriatingly triumphant grin.

"Yub yub, Commander!"

Wedge dropped him.

* * *

**A/N: **My third and final drabble for my challenge with **Face of Poe**! For this one, she gave me the following five things to include:

\- a bridge

\- alcohol

\- a Kowakian monkey lizard

\- something misfiring

\- an improvised weapon

Annnnd I told her these things all sound like Rogue/Wraith things, so here's another pilot drabble for you! This time with 75% more pilots! I clocked in around 1,237 words this time, just a few under the limit. Aw yeah.

Anyway, this has been tons of fun and really gotten my muse going. Look for more things to come, mwahah.


End file.
